


He Was Home

by Blueberryshortcake



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, Prompt Fill, Sarge Looks after his Boys, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 07:35:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15859146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueberryshortcake/pseuds/Blueberryshortcake
Summary: Simmons asks Sarge for something before donating his organs to Grif.





	He Was Home

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: sarge looking after simmons after top surgery
> 
> Note: Part of my micro AUs but not tagged as such because it's not necessarily AU.

“Thank you Sarge.” 

“I was doing the robo bits anyway, no trouble at all, son.”

It always meant a lot when Sarge called him that, for a lot of reasons.

“Is Grif going to be okay?”

Sarge shrugged. “Eh, he’ll live.” Sarge waved a hand casually. “Rest up. Light duties for the next few weeks.”

“What if the Blue’s attack?” Simmons stiffened. 

Sarge pshawed, “Those lazy menaces are always up for a truce. We’ll let em get nice and cozy, and baj-jam! We take them out before they can decide to take us out.”

“Breaking the truce?” 

“Just go lay down, Simmons.”

-

Simmons was really good at interpreting everything Sarge does as fatherly. So when he brought him juice he was over the moon.

“Thank you, Sir!” 

“How’s the pain?”

“Pretty good actually, better than I thought.”

“I’m fine too by the way.”

Grif was laid up in the bed beside him covered in bandages. Despite the sarcasm he seemed in pretty good spirits. 

“Shaddup Grif. How are the robo bits moving, Simmons?”

Simmons waved his new arm. It felt weird, but not unpleasant. It had feeling and it felt a lot stronger than his other arm.

“Mm, good,” Sarge grunted, “And… everything else?”

“Sore, but fine.” 

“I’ll getcha an icepack

“My gallbladder isn’t feeling great if you’re interested.”

“Stop being a crybaby. Grif.” 

Sarge left to get the icepack.

“Man, he’s really coddling us. Usually he would punch me in the gallbladder,” Grif leaned back in his bed. He reached over and stole Simmons juice. 

“You DID almost die,” Simmons pointed out.

“Yeah, uh… thanks for … donating.”

“Robot arm seems cooler than flesh arm in the long run. Now I’m like Luke Skywalker.”

“Dude, you are nothing like Luke Skywalker.” 

Simmons bristled pretending he wasn’t hurt by the comment.

“Luke Skywalker was a moron that got his hand chopped off. You donated half your organs to a dude you don’t even like that much.”

Simmons tried very hard not to blush. He cleared his throat.

“I–don’t think you’re terrible. Besides. I would be stuck with Donut or Lopez for wall duty if you died. Can you imagine?”

“Ugh, what would you even talk about? Spanish?”

“I don’t think–I mean I don’t think I could have a conversation about Spanish with Lopez without knowing Spanish.” 

“And Donut would make you hungry because you’d be thinking about Donuts all day,” Grif added. 

“That’s you fatass.”

“Smartass.”

Sarge came back carrying some icepacks. He passed one to Simmons, and chucked the other one at Grif. He really WAS coddling them.

“Give me a shout if you need anything or if Grif starts dying so I can be there when it happens.”

“You’re the one that saved my life Sarge,” Grif said.

“Don’t rub it in,” Sarge grumbled. 

Simmons thought briefly what it would be like if he was home, but… no. 

He WAS home. He was here. 

And for all the bullshit and boredom that came up… he was thankful for it. 


End file.
